Holiday Oneshot Collection
by The Writer of Darkness
Summary: A collection of Christmas oneshots. Basically the title.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Yugioh Zexal or Carol of the Bells. They belong to their respective owners.

 **A/N Just a cute little thing I wanted to do for the holidays. This is actually my first oneshot, so I hope it's good! And Merry Christmas to all!**

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The Arclight Family Choir

 _"Hark, how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, 'Throw cares away.'"_

 _Thomas's fingers slid across the piano, play each note flawlessly. He continued, each key more beautiful than the last._

 _Isla chimed in, her voice mixing with his piano melody and his own voice. "One seems to hear words of good cheer from everywhere filling the air. Oh, how happy are their tones…"_

 _Byron applauded each of them. Rosalind whistled, urging them to continue._

Thomas rose from his bed, shaking shaggy blonde and maroon hair from his wife red eyes. "Another dream about the family concert. I swear I'll go crazy if I have another!"

Isla bent down from the bunk they shared. "Stop, Thomas. You woke me up!"

He glanced up at her dismissively. "So what?"

"You got me mad, that's what!"

"And?"

"You—argh. It's Christmas Eve. We shouldn't argue. Shall we practice our song instead?" she suggested.

He shook his head again. "Why not."

Thomas sat at the large wooden piano in the living room. He pushed up the cream-colored shirtsleeves of his Christmas sweater.

Brushing violet hair from her face, Isla opened her mouth to sing.

"What are you doing?"

Thomas mentally slapped himself. Of course Chris of all people would come to watch them practice.

Michael rose from his shoulder. "Yeah. What 'doin' Thomas?"

Michael too?

He clasped his hands together and fell to his knees. The already loose seams of his dark green shorts finally split. "Please don't tell Mom and Dad! We just wanted to surprise them. Isla thought it'd be a good idea to make use of all those piano lessons and have a family concert. Wish I'd thought of it." He crossed his arms.

Chris acknowledged this. "Alright, you can continue working on this…"

His younger brother jumped up in glee. "Thank you, thank you—"

He held up a finger. "…On one condition."

The words caused him to deflate immediately. "And what's that?"

"That Michael and I are part of it as well."

Michael narrowed his ginormous emerald eyes. "I wanna help! I help too!" He shook his tiny fists for emphasis.

It was either agree to this or risk getting told on by Chris, the known tattletale of the family. Or at least according to the twins.

"Fine. You're good with computers and stuff, so you can set up lights or whatever. And," Thomas added, pointing to Michael, "he can paint signs. Will that work?"

"With some more planning added, yes."

They shook on it.

"Let's have the greatest Arclight family concert ever."

.

For the next two hours they worked tirelessly until they finished.

Chris wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and took a moment to look over their work.

Michael had made a collection of red and green finger paintings which Isla had turned into a garland with strings and scissors. Thomas, though very grouchily, hung it above the blazing fireplace and over the edge of the piano.

Now that they had finished, there was but one thing left to do.

"Mother! Father!" He called joyfully.

Rosalind re-braided her pink and blonde hair, tying of the end with a white bow. "Yes, Chis? What is it?"

He bit his lip. "I…um…just bring Father to the family room. I have a presentation I think you will both enjoy. Isla, Michael, and Thomas are in on it as well. We've been working on it for a considerable amount of time now."

"Alright." She gathered her skirts and sat on the red satin couch. From her pocket she pulled a duel gazer. "I told Byron that we'd have to call each other inside this palace of a house to communicate," she said jokingly to her oldest son. "Chris has something he wants to show us in the living room. He says that it's some kind of a surprise he put together with his brothers and sister."

"I'm coming down right away," replied Byron joyously. "Merry Christmas Eve."

.

"Hark, how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, 'Throw cares away,'" Isla began.

"Ding, dong, ding, dong, ding, dong!" continued Michael.

"One seems to hear words of good cheer from everywhere filling the air. Oh, how happy are their tones. Gaily they ring while people sing. Songs of good cheer, Christmas is here," Chris sang.

Thomas himself continued the music on the piano, his fingers flying over the keys like butterflies in a garden. He may as well be the king of pianists, if he did say so himself.

He finally joined the choir for the last verse. "Ding dong, ding dong. That is our song. With joyful ring, all caroling. On how they send, on without end. Their joyful tone, to every home."

Each child was showered with praise and love.

"Thomas, I had no idea you could play like that. Isla, you have the most beautiful voice I've heard in years. Chris, you did very well bringing this all together. You even got Michael to join in!" they gushed.

And so, for seven more years after that they always had a concert. Each time a different Arclight would play a song of their choice and get everyone to participate in it. Each year on Christmas Eve they would sing their hearts out.

.

How long has it been since then?

Quattro lit the candle and placed it ceremoniously on the table. It wasn't quite the family living room, but it was close enough. This time he would play for no one but himself and his memory.

The piano was not the one he remembered. Again, it was close enough for him.

He let the song flow from his hands and lips. Almost as water from a stream. Or fire from a building.

"Hark, how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, 'Throw cares away…'"


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own Yugioh Zexal. It belongs to its respective owners.

 **A/N This is pr the shortest fanfic chapter I've ever written. Oh well.**

The Kastle Siblings Stay Up Late

Reginal draped the sheet over the ebony chairs. He triple-checked what he needed to prove Santa Clays' existence. Camera: check. Flashlight: check. Blankets: check. Rio: uncheck.

"Where could she be?" he wondered aloud.

He felt a sharp tug at the back of his head. Slapping at whatever has pulled his hair, he turned around.

"What was that for, Rio?"

She blushed angrily. "This time I'm going to prove he's real! You're wrong to think that it's Mommy or Daddy that fills our stockings," she said decisively.

He rolled his eyes at the bluenette seven-year-old. "Whatever. You got a clock?"

She shook her head. "I thought you got it."

"Why should I be the one to get it? I got everything else," he complained.

"Exactly!"

"Rio, that doesn't even make sense."

"So?"

"Just be quiet. I'll go get it," he decided eventually.

Clock now in hand, he returned to his sister. She had decided to braid her hair into three different parts and had begun to cry out of frustration.

"Look who's crying again," he teased.

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "Not me!"

"Whatever you say."

He lay on his stomach and glanced out the fort. When will my parents arrive, he wondered.

10:00. Nothing.

11:17. Still nothing.

11:53. Still no sign of anyone.

Reginal looked to his side to see his little sister peacefully snoozing on top of one of the stuffed animals she had brought in. He smiled to himself. She was the one that had been so adamant about doing this in the first place, and here she was, taking a nap.

But then again…

Exhaustion tugged at his eyelids. A short break shouldn't be that bad, right?

Reginal yawned loudly. He took a glance at the clock and frowned. 7:28. He had slept through it.

Gently he shook Rio. "Hey, Rio! Wake up. It's Christmas," he added.

Half-asleep, she punched the air, trying to attack whomever had woken her. "Whowokemeup?" she slurred sluggishly.

"I fell asleep before we could see him," he admitted.

She considered this. She sat silently thinking until she came up with an idea. "What if he made us fall asleep? What if that's how I always fall asleep on Christmas when I'm too excited to?"

He nodded, only partially listening.

Maybe that was how it worked.

Who knows?


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Yugioh Zexal. It belongs to its respective owners.

 **A/N These just get harder and harder to write for some reason. This will be the last one for a while so I can continue working on the Arcshadow.**

We Wish You A Barian Christmas

Nasch had never heard a more idiotic idea in his life. Well, as long as she didn't embarrass him, he guessed he'd be fine.

Merag poked her brother's nose. "We're doing this, and you're not going to stop me. It's Christmas. It's only fair to explain it to the other Emperors. End of story."

Nasch sighed under his breath. "Fine, Merag. Just don't make me do anything stupid."

She snapped her fingers, and half of the floating crystal of the realm turned green. "That's better." She walked into the meeting room.

He followed his younger sister, scared for the outcome. There she was, sending a message to the other five Emperors for a meeting. It had taken some time for him to get used to the idea of someone else's thought in his head, but it felt alright after some time.

The Seven Emperors stood in a circle as normal. Because Merag had called the meeting, she sat on the throne. She laughed to herself. It felt powerful to finally be there.

Alito smashed his fist against a once-red floating crystal. "What's this about? Did something happen to Barianworld that I should know? Who did this, and can I punch them when we learn who did?"

Merag shook her head. "No, Alito. There will be no punching me. I turned the crystals green because it's Christmas. This tree is part of the tradition. It's a time where we give each other gifts and celebrate good times together," she explained.

Dumon tilted his head. "Is this the holiday that the Earthens celebrate in late December? The one with the man who breaks into your home and places gifts inside socks held over a fireplace?"

Vector laughed. "Well, that's stupid. Am I right? Who in their right mind would believe that? Or wrong, maybe!" He made a face, or the closest thing to it.

Merag frowned. This wasn't going how she thought it would. "I did, Vector. But anyway, I think it'd be a good idea for us to have some kind of Secret Santa gift exchange."

The Emperors met her words with more confusion.

"We put our names in a hat and each pick one. Then, without telling who we got to the person, they are given the gift. Good enough explanation for you?"

They nodded. Each did as she explained, well if a little unsure.

In her hand was Alito's name. Shouldn't be that hard…right?

Yeah… She didn't know him very well and had no idea what he would want. The best she could do was give him something fighting-themed. What else did he even like?

"Oh, uh, thanks Girag. I'll be sure to use this in the future," Nasch said, trying to figure out what it was.

"Yep. Carved it myself. It's a raccoon. Just like Ponta!"

Obviously.

Mizar frowned deeply. The moment he opened the box, glitter exploded in his face. As the sequins dropped off the white feathery mask, his displeasure greatened. In the box was a singed dragon scale. Angrily he turned to Merag.

"This is a human's idea of a good time? Maybe now you'll understand my hate for them!" he insulted.

Her white and magenta face turned a strange pinkish shade. "That's…ugh. Fine. Alito, do you like your gift?"

He eyed it a third time. "Uh, yeah I guess. I already have three of them."

He was Alito. Why wouldn't he.

But no matter. Note to self. Never have a Barian Christmas again.

"Thanks, Mizar. Merry Christmas to you as well." She hung up the call.

How strange this was. It had been a year since Astral had changed the timeline. What a change it had been.

And maybe, Christmas with the six other former Emperors might not be such a bad idea after all.


End file.
